Archangel
by Genesis Eclipse
Summary: Really something completely original. Category is "Push" due to some blatant  massive  inspiration taken from that series, and "Jumper". *Shrug* had to pick something. Review? Should I write more? Should I scrap it? Rated M as per usual just incase swearing or violence gets excessive  It won't;P
1. Prologue

**Archangel**

**Prologue – Cold Blood**

**New York City. 1:00 AM EST. **Time square is still bustling with activity. However, something would be strange about tonight as two men were leaping from building to building in a cop-and-robber scenario. Right, the one running from the other, that'd be me. Now, you are probably asking how exactly we are jumping from building to building. You see, Humans use about twenty or so percent of their brains at any given time. And nature meant to keep it this way at least for now for a damn good reason. That other eighty percent gives us the ability to do some crazy shit. Some of us, a select few, can use this other eighty percent in one way or another. They call us "talented" as that is exactly what we are. We walk the earth as super-humans in a way. We live longer, run faster, jump higher all of course depending on what exactly our genetic write-up specializes in. Me? I'm what they call a Kinetic. My brain emits pulses of electromagnetic energy that I can use to manipulate the phys- Ahh, I'm getting way to detailed. Let's put it this way. I can throw things with my mind. Its kind've like that. Kind've.

I ran from rooftop to rooftop, turning back occasionally to see the suited man still giving chase. _'Fuck this.' _I thought slowing to a stop and spinning around and punching my fist forward to intercept the man. Well, not so much my fist but the burst of energy that flew from my fist. The man, mid-jump was slammed by the kinetic energy launched back into a chimney. The man knocked it clean off sending it skyward. I breathed slowly wiping the blood off of my chin. My Gucci suit? Ruined. Ripped, bloodied and soaked. The man rose up cracking his wrist before removing a pistol from its holster, firing quickly. I threw up a force field and willed them to drop. They did. I threw up my fist again and started running, throwing another kinetic fist at him. The man this time dashed forward then feinted to the right. I then felt a crushing pain hit my ribs. I practically flew across the roof. I threw a punch and the man simply waved the energy right back at him. I went to gather energy for another punch but, I could feel my wrists and ankles being chained to the ground with kinetic energy that was beyond my skill to break. The man chuckled, reloading his pistol and aiming it right at my head. "You.. You bastard." I said meekly. The man laughed, "What did you expect Nate? Flowers an' a pat on the back? Everything's finally, caught up with you my friend." The man said. "Hah," I coughed "I bet it shouldn't catch up with you then, eh? You're a fucking hypocrite." The man shrugged, "I might be a hypocrite, but I'm also the one with the gun." I stared at the man as intently as I could "You'd murder me in cold blood!" The man made a pose that said 'shit happens' "Yes, yes I would. If it's my survival over yours Nate, I'm gonna take my chances with mine. Templar's on my ass or not." I conceded, letting my head fall back "So be it." The man pressed his finger to the trigger and the whole world centered on that bullet. Now, how did I end up in this unfortunate situation of being shot in the face? Let's go back a little bit. Shall we?


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Off The Grid**

**Dubai. 11 PM GST. **Viktor Belkovich entered the night club. Not strange at all, infact to be expected of someone with as much power and anonymity as the Russian possessed. He recently arrived here from Moscow, likely on some business venture to further increase his already huge wealth. Drake West would know, he had his file- and had been tailing him for three days. Viktor and his entourage wasn't that hard to tail given the fact that they moved in a way that made it obvious that they were body guarding someone of importance. Idiots. But hey, idiocy made Drake's job all the more simple. He brushed a hand down to his holster and grasped his newly 'acquired' silenced desert eagle. Was it loaded? Of course it was he had double checked. Drake grunted, rising from his perch. The man stood at a decent six-feet and looked in his late thirties. He brushed back his short stark blonde hair with his left hand out of habit before drawing on kinetic force as he had so many times before. He leaped off of the building staying close to one of the many long shadows cast by the emerging city. When he neared the ground he released the kinetic energy launching it at the ground with effort and slowing his fall to the speed as if he had just done a jumping jack. Drake threw on his pea coat, and walked casually toward the night club. But not to the entrance. No, Viktor likely had at least three men stationed around that area and he had no way of telling who. Sometimes, he wished his talent was Breaking. Being a Breaker meant he could use those drones to his advantage and know –exactly- which ones were his. Oh, mind control had the potential to be so very sweet. Drake wandered into the alley that was beside the club. "Hmmph, if I read the maps right," Drake said lowly to himself "The washrooms should be right.. About... Here." Drake closed his eyes and touched the brick wall and began to become transparent with the flux of his mind. He walked through the wall and ducked into a stall. He exhaled slowly and blinked to stop the light fit of spinning brought on by Phasing. He loved being a hybrid. Being both a Phaser and a Kinetic meant he could not only walk through walls, but blow them to pieces. Options were nice. Although, one downside to being a hybrid was the 'jack-of-all-trades' effect; He could never truly master either of his skills –only come damn close- and his secondary skill would always be far more difficult. Hence, the spinning. Still, it was a small price to pay for being a total badass.

Drake slowed his breathing and opened the stall door silently. He took a few steps out cautiously, his boots almost silent against the tile floor. Was it safe, was there anyone there? He listened. Nope. He moved to the door without fear. CREAK. _'Oh shi-'_ he thought as the door to the washrooms opened. A women in a scandalously cut red dress entered and her widened eyes at Drake's presence were practically screaming "RAPE. RAPE. RAPE.". Fuck, women's washroom. Her lips parted to give voice to those concerns. Drake however, instinctively flung out both his arms and his mind pulling her close, closing her jaw, freezing her vocal cords and then finally knocking her out all in one swift motion. _'Phew.. Thank god I memorized that...' _He thought to himself. He had actually memorized that motion for that exact situation. Many times he had had those very nearly-awkward "THIS ISN'T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!" moments. And with those experiences he had discovered there was no way to shut up a threatened woman using intelligent words alone. Knocking unconscious kind've became a rule of thumb and a necessity after a while. Hey, it works, doesn't it? Drake dragged her over to one of the stalls and made it so with a quick field of energy that she would vomit when she awoke. Hopefully, if she remembered any of this she would think she was just very impaired and simply imagined it. Meh, it wouldn't matter. He would be out of here inside of the hour. Drake walked out of the washroom at last, emerging into a scene with fog, darkness, lasers and music that made the building shake. He looked for his target. And almost instantly he was able to single him out. In one of the darker corners of the night club, sitting at a large round table backed by a large leather bench sat Viktor and his entourage. Not even smiling for the most part. Made them seem incredibly obvious but Drake supposed he simply didn't care. Drake turned to the bar area and walked over waving over the bartender. The man nodded curtly accepting Drake's order as he turned around and once again eyed his target. Viktor was a man of medium stature with very short brown hair, cut short on the sides and brushed far forward in the front. His right ear was pierced a few times with simple metal bands and his skin was pasty white. He wore flashy clothing that was almost too formal for the night club he had chosen (as did his entourage) although, he didn't seemed bothered by it in the least and continued to talk with his drones. Drake's thoughts were interrupted by a small slam on the bar table in front of him. He turned and saw his drink placed neatly on a napkin in front of him. He turned back to the Russian, and then back to his drink grabbing it

'_Now or never' _he thought as he downed his drink at the same time rising from his seat. He left a few Euros on the table as a tip hoping that the Arab man would take them- well, it didn't really matter. Not like he would ever be seen here again. Drake walked forward toward the Russian, a hand slipping down to the holster hidden on his belt and wrapped his fingers around the reassuring weapon. Drake continued to walk until he reached the table where two of his followers rose and quickly made their way over to Drake. Viktor, however called them off with a flick of a hand "What do you want, sir?" Viktor asked in a would-be respectful manner if not for the entourage of people staring Drake down. Drake looked at Viktor, saying nothing and merely making notes of his entourage. All of them were buff but only perhaps two of them were visibly armed. No doubt they had others who were stationed elsewhere in the club and outside likely poised to shoot already. Viktor chuckled, "Heh, alright friend is this some kind've joke? Am I supposed to be guessing who you are pretending to be? Really, what is this?" Drake chuckled before locking eyes with the dead man, "Your end, Viktor Belkovich." At this his eyes widened and his guards sprung up from their seats but they were far too slow. The weapon practically flew out of Drake's holster as he fired exactly three bullets at the Russian. One in the head, one in the heart, and well; one where you don't really want to be shot. Viktor's eyes rolled back into his head as crimson trickled down his face. His guards ran for Drake but Drake was already transparent. Their arms flew through him, as did a crescendo of bullets. He leaped through the wall and took off running. The safe house was a few miles from there and he didn't have much time. Viktor Belkovich, however, was dead and there was now one less name for Drake to keep track of. Wonderful.

**Unknown Location. 5 AM.** A suited man in a dark lavish room sat on a large black leathered chair, resting his weathered arms on long arching armrests that seemed fitted to his arm length. _"Open secure channel. Password; ECLIPSE. Encrypt data, voice shift three points down."_ The man said. _"Certainly sir."_ replied an electronically generated female voice. Voices soon entered the room _"Finally, you have joined us Eclipse. We were beginning to wonder if you too had been eliminated." _Said a vaguely Japanese voice. _"Hmmph, don't worry gentlemen. I don't believe any of us have been compromised quite yet,"_ The suited man said quite confidently _"However by that comment I suppose you all know that Viktor has gone dark." _. _"Gone 'dark'? You word that as if he has merely ceased communication, no, our colleague has been terminated. My informants in the area are piecing together a story but as of now it sounds vague." _Replied a spiteful female voice that shifted between a British and a German accent. The man rubbed his temples in thought _"Viktor was sloppy, always has been. His movements led to his discovery however, if this was more than just a gang murder –which multiple sources confirm this was not a gang murder- the killer may know who we are. And because we have not yet found a traceable source to our killer he has likely taken the smart route of hiding out until he has planned the murder of the next one of us. If he is going off the grid, so shall we. Is this course of action acceptable?" _The suited man asked the group. An affirming 'yes' rang through from each of the people. _"Eclipse, what of Archangel?" _Another voice asked_. "Archangel shall proceed as planned until the time where it can be unveiled. It is at this point when we shall play our hand. Until this time, I call this meeting to an end. Stay the course Templars."_

**End of Chapter 1**


End file.
